Unintentionally Voyeuristic
by Ever After Happily
Summary: America drops by his sister's one day and finds something he never could have imagined. And quickly finds that it's like a train-wreck: He just can't look away. Who knew Canada wasn't all she seemed to be? Fem!Canada/Russia. Yes, in that order.


AN: First story here, somehow created after I realized that I couldn't see Canada top anyone. Unless he isn't male. Warnings for light bondage and the fact that Canada is….not so timid. I love reviewers forever, especially if they tell me what they liked best and what I could improve on~

Hope you enjoy!

America frowned.

He'd knocked twice already, but still there was no answer. Maybe she was listening to music and couldn't hear him? Yeah, that must be it! What sister would ignore her heroic brother on purpose? The blonde nation finally shrugged, bored with waiting and let himself in. "Mattie?" He called, wandering through the quiet house looking for any sign of his sister. A loud thump from upstairs caused him to grin. He bet she had begun her attempt to get Kuma into the bath. If there was one thing that bear hated, it was being clean.

He trotted up the stairs, shaking his head with a smile as the clattering continued. That bear was really putting up quite the fight today, wasn't he?

He had only just reached the top of the stairs when he saw the bear just sitting there, looking for the entire world like it had been asleep for hours. Which it probably had been.

There was a shattering of glass followed by a very familiar voice swearing. A voice that belonged to Russia.

America glanced fearfully down the hall to where Canada's bedroom lie with the door open just a crack, and rushed over without a second thought. He was just about to rush through the door and prove that he really was the hero when his younger sister managed to toss the much larger man to the floor.

With some kind of fucking Judo throw.

How had she even done that?

Curiosity piqued, America sat watching through the crack in the open door, watching as Canada straddled the Russian's broad chest and pulled him up by his scarf to…..kiss him?

America's jaw quite literally dropped, unable, and slightly unwilling to believe his eyes.

The crazy commie bastard tries to attack her and she responds with some kind of…affection? If it could even be called that. That kiss /was/ pretty brutal.

He even looked surprised, though whether it was because she was kissing him or the fact that she had managed to throw him, America wasn't sure.

Russia's hands moved to wrap around the Canada's waist as the fierce kiss continued, and he slowly moved so they were sitting upright, and then standing completely, never breaking the contact of their lips. When they finally came apart for a breath, Canada ran her hands from his scarf slowly, teasingly down his chest to brush her hands against his hips and then back up, pulling herself close and sliding her fingers down his shoulders and stopping to rest only once she reached his wrists.

It was like some kind of slow, erotic tango, and America knew his face was flaming red from embarrassment and surprise.

And then his sister continued to surprise him, and Russia too. His jaw dropped for the second time that night as Canada used the Russian's wrists and her own coy kisses to back him up against the wall and then slam him into it, effectively pinning his body between hers and the wall. It took Russia sliding his knee in between Canada's legs for America to finally notice just how short the skirt his sister was wearing was.

He was still just trying to figure out what was going on. Mattie had never mentioned Russia before, not unless it was about a hockey game.

Canada flicked a teasing smile up at Russia as she slid her leg up, over his hip until she was practically doing the splits against his body. And then America realized two things.

One, that his sister was /very/ flexible (a fact that made his face burn even more), and two, that Russia wasn't just letting her pin him. He could see their arms and bodies straining against each other in a silent struggle of what seemed to be a battle of dominance.

It seemed like America wasn't the only one with an unusual amount of strength.

No wonder she was feared during hockey season: Mattie was fighting for dominance. And she was actually /winning./

She kissed her way up Russia's jaw and stopped at his ear, whispering something America could not hear from his hiding place. The tall man froze slightly, not pushing against Canada's arms anymore. His eyes darted around until Canada caught his lips in another bruising kiss that left them both panting as they finally broke away.

Whatever his sister had said, it seemed to be forgotten as she took his scarf like a leash and led him towards the large bed usually reserved for herself and her forgetful bear.

She walked slowly around him as he stood next to the edge, waiting for her next move. She stepped like a predatory cat, watching Russia with a coy smile even as he turned with her until his back was to the bed. Canada pushed him back onto the bed, and Russia let himself fall.

She climbed on top if him, locking their lips in a passionate kiss as she went, following him up the bed as he scooted back.

Canada made the kiss rougher, deeper as she straddled the panting Russian on her bed. Her hand started to slide behind the bars that made up the headboard and slowly, as if not to disturb the other, she lifted what looked suspiciously like Russia's steel faucet pipe. America's eye's widened. Now he definitely didn't like Russia, but he didn't really want to see his little sister bash his brains in either.

He looked at the floor where he crouched, mind racing as he tried to decide whether to help or wait it out. But when he looked back up, it was because he heard a startled noise of surprise from Russia.

Fearing the worst, he looked closely, only to find that Canada hadn't tried to kill him with it at all. No, in fact, she seemed to have used Russia's beloved scarf to tie his hands to it, locked behind the study metal bars of the bed's headboard, effectively stopping him from using them at all.

Russia looked as shocked as America felt.

Canada only smirked and kissed his lips lightly before moving down to undo the buttons of his long coat, which had since started to stick to his chest with sweat.

"You are a clever little wildcat." Russia said lowly, in a heavy, husky voice, speaking for the first time since America had heard him swearing when he first arrived.

He licked his bruised lips and watched Canada undo his buttons with a sort of amused fascination. "You are the first to manage this, you know." He continued, accent thick even as he let out a hiss of breath, courtesy of Canada's talented mouth on his collarbone.

Her lips quirked into a ghost of a smile as she bit down rather harshly onto his skin, causing him to groan in pleasure and buck his hips.

America was dumbfounded, as he watched his sister make clear marks across the Russian's chest. Back in the old days, days when he and Russia engaged in violent rounds of hate-sex, Russia had told him one thing specifically.

"I will not allow you to mark me. Marks as if I was a possession, a thing with which you can play as the mood strikes you."

In simple speak; Russia wouldn't let anyone do that without either a struggle or some sort of feeling for them. Now it was only a matter of figuring out if it was just because he was tied up.

Turning his attention back to the scene from which he could not seem to look away from, America found that Canada had rid them of his coat and her shirt, revealing a chest coated in red bites and a very lacy black bra.

She was trailing down his stomach with open-mouthed kisses, dangerously close to the edge of his pants. When she reached that point, she rested her hands on Russia's hips, and with a little jerk of her head, unbuttoned it. The she unzipped them.

Slowly.

With her /teeth/.

The hands resting on his hips gripped around the waistband of his pants, sliding them down as he wriggled his hips to assist her. Then, once he was rid of them, she crawled back up to kiss him again, twisting her hands into his silver hair.

The kiss was brief, before she moved to whisper something in his ear, smiling in the sly way she only did when she was planning something, leaving America to wonder what. And then Russia started to laugh.

Not the cold, condescending laugh that America was more used to hearing, not even that unnerving chant her did when he was angry.

No, a honest-to-goodness throaty, /happy/ laugh.

Canada grinned like she had just won the lottery, and dipped down to kiss Russia in a fashion considerably less vicious fashion than she had previously.

Then she stood, careful not to tip off the bed and swayed her hips as she removed the tiny skirt, moving like a seductive pro. Her panties were just as lacy as her bra, but soon both were lost in the same slow, sensual dance as the skirt.

Fully naked now, she slid teasingly into a crouch, before moving onto all fours bending her head towards hip hips. Canada slid her tongue slowly around the head of the other's erection, eliciting a low moan. She dipped down and licked up his length, following the veins as she moved.

Russia tugged at his bonds, but it seemed Canada was skilled at tying knots, and it wasn't going to come loose until she untied it.

She ran her teeth lightly down the side of the erection and trailed her tongue as she moved back up. Russia swore and bucked his hips, but Canada only pulled away. She crawled up the bed to reach into the drawer of her nightstand, retrieving both a condom and a bottle of lube.

Resting herself on Russia's thighs, she tore the condom open with her teeth and rolled it on, the lube following in a distinctly suggestive way shortly after.

Canada moved forward slightly and grasped Russia's length with slim fingers, positioning herself carefully over him. She started to let herself slide down onto him, but even now it was tortuously slow, teasing.

She moaned, long and drawn out until she had fully slid onto him, her head tipping back in her pleasure. She wasted little time in setting up a rhythm, and it quickly became harsher and faster, both thrusting their hips in time to hit with near-bruising force. Canada writhed on top of him, but didn't break time as she dipped to press bites and kisses against the other's moaning mouth, which were returned in between panting breaths.

Their noises grew louder and more frequent as they reached their climax, neither able to last long with the brutal pace.

With a piercing, wordless scream, Canada finished, her noise driving Russia over the edge with a snap of his hips and a final groan. She collapsed beside him, gasping for breath as she tossed the now-useless condom into the waste bin next to her bed.

They lay like that on their backs for a bit, and America decided he should probably get out of there as soon as he could, when Canada started to speak.

She pushed herself upright and looked Russia square in the eyes, looking contemplative. "Russia," She paused. "Date me."

This time it was Russia's turn for his jaw to drop.

"Why." His voice was low, raspy.

Canada was unperturbed. "Because you know it would be fun." She told him simply, raising an eyebrow.

Russia shook his head, struggling slightly to move himself so that he was sitting upright against the bars of the bed. "No, not that. Why would you want to date me?" It wasn't a question born of insecurities, no. He was really just curious, something that seemed odd.

He watched her with slightly suspicious eyes, as if he expected her to pull some kind of trick.

"Um, because I like you? Isn't that why people usually ask this?"

Russia's face was unreadable. "Are you not afraid of me like the others?"

"Russia, I tied you to my bed. Using your weapon of choice and your favorite scarf. If I was really afraid, wouldn't doing something that could anger you be a really stupid idea?" Canada crossed her arms, and Russia sighed, deciding that her logic was sound.

"Plus," Canada added, an evil glint coming into her eyes, "If you're an asshole about this, I can tell your sister where your secret house is."

Russia's eyes widened a fraction, looking fearful. Then he realized that Canada was smiling as if holding back laughter and he couldn't help but smile softly as a snicker escaped her.

"Very well," He said, and you could just about see the gears turning. "I find you interesting, and considering this," A gesture towards their sweating, disheveled appearances, "It does not seem as if much will change."

Canada grinned victoriously. "You'll have to tell people. And actually go outside with me, or else we're nothing more than fuck-buddies."

Russia seemed to think this over as Canada added, "There will be more nights like this too, though I wont tie you up." A sly grin crossed her features. "Unless you want me to, that is."

Finally, Russia nodded. He could find nothing wrong with the deal, and considering how unnoticeable Canada was, she would probably be perfectly safe from Belarus. In fact, he could probably hide from her here with a great amount of success.

"Alright then, I will date you." And Russia smiled. America thought it was the first genuine smile he had ever seen him make. It did suit him, but….How the fuck did his sister manage to tame Russia, of all people?

Usually she couldn't even get noticed when she was shouting, but here she seemed to have captured the heart of one of the scariest nations there was.

He saw her press a kiss to Russia's lips, this one almost lovingly chaste in comparison to the ones before. She untied his wrists with deft fingers and brushed her lips against red-ringed skin. An apology of sorts, though the raw skin wasn't serious in the least.

And before he could further his thoughts any more, or possibly run for his life, the door he had been hiding behind swung wide, revealing his sister clothed in a plain gray robe and a viciously amused expression.

And she didn't look surprised to see him at all.

"Hello America. Would you like to join us, or would you rather just sit here?"


End file.
